Violet Hill
by Demon-Something
Summary: There's been a death of...of someone special to me. And now, I feel as if that person's rejected me. Believe me, there's nothing worse. And I may just feel that for the rest of my life.


**This was my first one-shot, so excuse its mediocrity.**

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing involving TDI/A/tM, like you expect me to.

There it was, that dreary black casket peppered with powdery snow at Violet Hill Cemetery. Inside had to be my one true love. Bridgette. It was a month ago when I got that call.

"Mr. Williams," a sympathetic female voice said over the phone, "A close contact of yours, Bridgette Landers has been in an accident. She is being transported to the nearest hospital."

My mind wandered back to reality and on to the minister at the funeral, saying that Bridgette was dearly loved and died too soon, acting as if nobody knew that, despite the audience knowing her better than he did. I had my own speech in my mind right now,

"_People, it's not how she died, it's _why _she died. What did she do than be herself, who was loved and loved back? Why do people think they can do things that cause this result? A lot of the time, we'll never know, but we should not dwell on this. We should just focus on the moments with her we now find precious. It's even more of a tragedy to forget her." _

Then, my first visit to the hospital came to mind. As I entered the stark, white, disinfectant smelling corridor of the hospital, my heart sank to my feet just by being there, and seeing Bridgette, the beautiful, angelic Bridgette in a hospital bed was almost too much for me to bear. The sadness morphed to anger towards the person who had put her here to begin with. A driver had ignored a red light and hit her Jeep Wrangler on the driver's side. She had been knocked unconscious instantly. She had finally awoken and I was ready to see her. I entered her room to find a battered, bruised girl covered in bandages and casts. The only way I knew it was her was the faint cry of "Geoff", coming from her.

"Bridgette, how are you?"

"Horrible," she replied.

"How bad?" I asked.

"So bad, I can't even begin to explain," she answered. Then, she let out a cry of pain and I was whisked out of the room, and told to visit the next day.

I was snapped out of flashback mode by a sobbing and shouting Courtney.

"Ugh, I can't believe you!"

"Look Princess, things like these happen. People live and people die. Not a reason to cry yourself dry." replied an insensitive Duncan.

"Not a reason. Not a reason! A close friend dies and you're not the slightest bit sad? You...You...You disgust me! Just... Just get out of my sight!"

Courtney's sobs intensified into wails and she crumpled to the snow on her knees. Duncan walked out of the cemetery with a scowl. A car engine started, and he departed.

It felt awful to have a friend like this. How could he not care about Bridgette? Why was he so uncaring? How could he do this to his own girlfriend? I had visited Bridgette whenever I could. Every time I went, Bridgette got paler, thinner, and her voice got hoarser and softer. She strained herself to talk, but she managed to communicate. She'd say just about everything except one thing. That one thing was I love you. Was she giving me up? Did she no longer care for me? I was so engrossed in the thoughts that had crept into my brain and would not slip away that I shrugged off a nurse whispering,

"Should we tell him she probably won't make it?" on my last visit.

Then, a week ago, Courtney called and said that Bridgette had died of internal bleeding. I got the official news an hour later. I was devastated. She had stayed alive for so long yet she had to die then. I didn't care about the massive amounts of cards and people offering a crying shoulder. All I thought about was wondering if Bridgette loved me when she died. As I watched the casket slowly descend into the pit they had dug, I finally started to cry. The warm rivulets of saline liquid ran down my face, off my chin, and onto the ground, making pockmarks in the snow. Everybody left after that. Instead, I just stared at the casket, which they had not bothered to bury just quite yet. Why would she have a black casket? She had always never liked the color black at all. I just stood there, trying to comprehend the events of the funeral, letting the wind blow my hair and make my jacket billow behind me. Then, a slight tap came to my attention, and I turned to find Courtney. She looked depressed, with bloodshot eyes looking directly at me.

"Bridgette would have liked this. She loved water, and here it is, frozen and surrounding us," Courtney explained, while trying to keep her emotions in line.

"She did like the snow, but why are you here?" I asked.

"Duncan took my car, and I have to give you something," she answered.

"What?"

"I visited Bridgette too. If she died, she said I'd have to give this to you."

Courtney gave me a scrap of paper folded in half. I turned around and unfolded the paper. For a moment, I just stared into space, hesitant to read Bridgette's last note. I looked over my shoulder, and Courtney was gone, leaving only a trail of footprints in the snow leading to the cemetery's ornate iron gates. I wished her luck getting home on just her two feel in the heavy snow, and turned my head back to the note. It read,

"_I love you."_

**Please review. It means a lot to me.**


End file.
